


Trouble, Regarding Unicorns

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Qnicorn [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, M/M, Meet-Cute, Unicorns, Veterinary student Q, i guess, sort of??, this is very silly I'm sorry, trans!Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Q wants nothing more than to get his degree in fantastical veterinary science and take care of fantastic creatures. He just has to dissect a fetal unicorn first and that's... kind of a problem





	Trouble, Regarding Unicorns

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so SOMEONE (cough[azure7539arts](http://azure7539arts.tumblr.com/)cough) threw a bunch of [urban fantasy prompts](http://writinglodge.tumblr.com/post/120308959725/urban-fantasy-prompt-list) at me even though they KNOW that's my weakness (or because they know, probably) and this one stuck: _I’m studying to get my fantastical veterinary degree but I cried and ran out when we had to dissect the fetal unicorn and you’re a nice bystander buying me coffee to calm me down._
> 
> Anyway, I have a lot of thoughts about Q and animals and unicorns and trans people and Q as a trans person, so I wrote this real quick and I'm tossing it up here before I lose my nerve and bury it forever. If you see any mistakes, please tell me, I'd like to fix them

Q honestly wants nothing more out of life than to become a veterinarian. (Well, yes, sure, maybe a partner and a nice little house and a couple of small dragons wouldn’t be amiss, but he’s not _thinking_ about that right now, he’s busy with school, alright?) He adores animals of all kinds, really, but he’s specializing in fantastical veterinary science because he is especially fond of fantastic beasts.

Dragons are lovely, proud creatures who are great for sitting on your lap and keeping you warm and letting you pet their smooth scales (the smaller, domesticated dragons, anyway; Q likely won’t get to work with wild dragons, but that’s alright). Gargoyles are loyal beasts who will do anything for their chosen people (and who have an absolutely fascinating biology, for all it verges on requiring a degree in geology to fully comprehend). And unicorns – well, unicorns are where it really started for Q.

His family owns a unicorn ranch, actually. Breeding and raising unicorns has been a familial profession for generations and generations, and they’re good at it. Really good at it. If you want a well-bred, healthy, happy unicorn, you really must get it from Q’s family. And Q grew up there, raised by his grandparents, who still live and work on the ranch to this day (certainly, there are rumors about longevity gained by working in such close proximity with unicorns, but Q’s family will neither confirm nor deny).

Q was always terribly fascinated with the goings-on of the ranch, and simply adored the unicorns, and his grandparents were happy to encourage his interest and involve him in their work. Really, someone would be hard-pressed to find something about unicorns that Q doesn’t already know, but he’s studying very hard anyway, because _what if there’s something he doesn’t know?_ And anyway, there are many other creatures to learn about.

So unicorns are where it starts, but Q figures why stop there? Why shouldn’t he learn to take care of all the animals? (Or at least all the fantastic ones; even Q has limitations, however unfortunate he may find this fact.)

And, really, Q is great at it. His memory is excellent and his instincts for working with animals were already well-developed and he can hardly be called squeamish after mucking stalls and treating ill unicorns and helping _birth_ things (which. Ew. He was really not fond of that process to start with, but he’s accepted it).

His compartmentalization skills are second to none, and even when it comes to watching operations or dissecting beasts, he’s able to put his fascination with the subject and his determination to help ahead of any distress he might otherwise feel. It will make him a good doctor, his instructors say.

The only thing is – the thing is, part of the curriculum involves dissecting a fetal unicorn.

And Q is dreading it.

He’s really, really dreading it.

It’s just – he just can’t help but remember the very first time he was allowed to assist in a birth. And aside from it being an amazing combination of _gross_ and _super cool_ , he became very, very attached to that foal. It kind of became like _his_ unicorn. He was even allowed to name it.

Yes, Amaranth was an excellent unicorn.

(Shut up. He was a pretentious little kid and he’d been going through a Greek history phase at the time.)

(It’s a _good_ name for a unicorn, alright?)

Q sort of grew up with Amaranth, unicorns being longer-lived than your average beast as they are. He remembers cleaning and caring for and training him, remembers being utterly terrified when illness swept through their stables, remembers being so _relieved_ when Amaranth was spared; he remembers being scared that Amaranth wouldn’t care to be around him anymore after he came out as a boy, because unicorns really do show a preference for women, and remembers getting just a little teary when he realized Amaranth treated him exactly the same.

(“You’ve always been a boy, my love,” His grandmother had said, playfully tugging at his freshly-cut hair, “Of course he loves you just the same as he always has.”)

So those are the sorts of associations Q has with baby unicorns. And he _knows_ fetal unicorns aren’t the same. He knows. These unicorns won’t have even reached full term; they’ll be sort of like aliens, really. Just weird aliens that happen to sort of resemble unicorn foals.

Q keeps right on telling himself that, because he needs to learn this. He needs to do this.

And he will. He can. He can do it. He steels himself for it, studies as much as he can to prepare (like he doesn’t already have the lab memorized upside down and backwards), doesn’t even eat breakfast the morning before class, and heads in.

But once he gets there and sees all the preserved fetuses ready to be dissected, he just–

He can’t.

He balks.

He grabs his stuff and leaves class without so much as a word or a look back. If someone asks him where he’s going, he doesn’t hear it.

Q holes up at a back table in the coffee shop on campus; it’s pretty deserted at this time of day, and the employees are used to the students having mental breakdowns, anyway. He’s not sure what he’s going to do now, because he needs this grade for class, but even more than that, he _needs_ to be able to compartmentalize. Q is so proud of his ability to keep things in his mind neat and tidy but somehow he just can’t shove this one away and – and then suddenly there’s coffee on the table in front of him.

As he is not expecting coffee to happen, Q feels it is acceptable that it takes a few moments for his mind to catch up with the fact that someone probably put the coffee there.

When he looks up to find out who, there’s some guy standing there (some really fit guy, but still some guy) looking sort of uncomfortable but also kind of determined, who tells him he looked like he could use a pick-me-up.

And – well, Q doesn’t really even like coffee that much, but it’s a nice gesture and he could probably use something in his stomach, anyway, so he thanks the guy and takes a sip. It’s not terrible.

Except then the guy sits down? And Q has no idea what to do. Does the guy expect him to make conversation? Does he want to know why Q is upset? What now?

The guy introduces himself as Bond—James Bond—and Q introduces himself as Q and does not elaborate even when James gives him a look. James goes on to take out some classwork and… get to work.

When Q asks what he’s doing, James tells him he’s doing his homework. As if there aren’t at least 10 empty tables he could have sat down at, instead of invading the space of a stranger who is not crying, thank you very much, but was probably pretty close to it. But okay, Q will roll with this.

Q sips at his coffee and James highlights things in his notes and Q reads some of the notes upside down and that’s why he ends up asking James what he’s studying (he’s majoring in Atlantean language; apparently James is thinking about joining the Navy after uni) and that’s why James asks Q what _he’s_ studying, and that’s why Q ends up babbling the whole damned story about unicorns and fetuses to James.

It helps a lot more than he expects it to, really. His grandparents are so proud of him for his studies and he doesn’t want to let them down and he hasn’t really made many friends since getting here and he’s been _stressed_. Maybe more stressed than he’s realized. Honestly, he feels quite a bit better after expelling it all, even if he’s a little embarrassed.

James, who mostly just nodded along, tells him he probably needs the chance to relax, and would Q like to go get lunch with him?

And – well. Q doesn’t see why not. He’ll have to deal with class eventually, but lunch sounds… nice.

James smiles at him, as though he’s done something worth smiling about, and it makes Q feel like maybe things will be easier to face with someone like this on his side.

And lunch with a guy with a smile like that? The day might not be a total loss after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr!](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/177209861888/trouble-regarding-unicorns)


End file.
